Sincerely, The HalfBlood Prince
by Kandakicksass
Summary: Harry finally finds a clue as to the Half-Blood Prince's identity- a journal, hidden in the back of the library with the other student artifacts. But, wait- what was this about James Potter, and how could this somehow wind up with him... and Draco?
1. Chapter 1

**This is a James/Severus read in a diary from Harry's point of view. So yeah, not direct, but it's still good.**

Harry James Potter had been searching for hours and sat knee deep in dusty old books before he found what he was looking for. Granted, he hadn't been searching for a diary, but it was better than nothing—much better, actually. A diary might give him some clue as to the writer's identity, after all.

The writer signed as the "half-blood prince", and that was one identity he was very interested in. He'd been searching on his own for days because Hermione had been coming up empty, and he was getting desperate.

Green eyes scanned the worn leather, the signature almost unreadable. If the penmanship inside wasn't the same as the scribe in his potions book, he would have worried that it didn't really belong to the same man because so many of the letters were faded from the cover.

He opened it, the first page filled with small, almost feminine handwriting. The loose cursive was familiar and slightly comforting. He read the first line.

_12/29_

_Christmas was dreadfully dull this year, as always. Mother sent me a card as per the usual, as well as enough galleons to last me in Hogsmead until summer. Narcissa, of course, sent me something far more personal—this notebook, knowing I was on my last page in the old one. I haven't seen her since New Years, almost a year ago, and I miss her terribly. She is still in that smaller academy—much smaller than Hogwarts if I hear correctly, but I'm told it's a good school nonetheless. At least I care where she is because her dear betrothed Lucius, no matter how good of a friend he is to me, is rather unfeeling when it comes to Narcissa. I wait for his lack of interest to land him with Bellatrix, actually._

Harry raised his eyebrows. He had a good feeling his search was leading him to a Slytherin (who else would be so close to the Malfoys and the Blacks?), which made a queasy feeling settle in his stomach, but he ignored it and continued reading.

_Not saying, of course, that there's anything wrong with Bellatrix. She's just a little eccentric. All right, more than a little, but that's beside the point._

_Anyway, Lucius had better get his arse in gear because one day Narcissa will realize he doesn't give a damn about her, and I will be the one to clean up his mess. Again, stupid womanizer. She hasn't realized yet because they're apart for now, but eventually, the day will come. I'll be honest—I don't look forward to it._

Harry couldn't help but snort with laughter. Bellatrix, simply eccentric? And the drama! Whoever this person was, he sounded like a girl! He hoped Hermione's theory about Eileen Prince was wrong.

_In case you're wondering, things with that no-good Gryffindor haven't gotten any better. His cronies—Black, Lupin—they've gotten cruller. Of course, it's their ringleader Potter who's behind ever rude comment. Frankly, I want to choke him. I really do detest him. And does he brush his hair at all? I may be a little biased with the length of my own hair, but one would think he'd at least run a __comb__ through it!_

The brunette was surprised to see his father come up, and his curiosity burned. He read now the journal of someone who was bullied by his father… and he felt a clue click into place. A Slytherin, and bullied by James Potter? Oh, no…

_It'd also be nice if he actually used my name. If I hear him call me "Snivellus" one more time, I might scream. How much of a git does one man have to be to use such a rude nickname?_

Harry cringed the minute he saw the word 'Snivellus'. He knew who the writer was. After nearly two months of searching, he'd found the identity of the half blood prince.

_Seriously. It's Severus—call me Snape, hell, he can call me 'Prince' if he wants to. I just wish he'd stop with the stupid little pet names he gives me just to embarrass me. I hate it that he does that. Does he see how immature it makes him?_

The Gryffindor couldn't help but agree. He'd been disgusted by his father's actions regarding his potions master, whether he liked him or not, and he was glad that James had eventually grown up.

"What are you doing here, Harry?"

He looked up to see Hermione standing there with a lantern, her free hand on her hip. He grinned at her, holding the book up, and she came over, helping him clean up the mess of books around him while she examined the leather bound journal.

"Is that…?"

"The diary of one Severus Snape?" Harry finished with a small laugh. "Yeah." Her brown eyes popped, her mouth opening in a slight 'o'.

"Snape?" she repeated. "_Snape _is the half-blood prince?"

"Apparently," Harry shrugged. "And he's got an awful grudge against my dad."

Hermione, having heard the story, giggled a bit. "I don't blame him. Are you going to keep it or put it back?" Her curious question made him question himself. Originally, once he'd figured out who it belonged to, he was just going to put it back, but it was an interesting read, and he couldn't help but admit, he wanted to know more.

"I think I'll keep it for a bit," he answered idly, just holding it and feeling the aging leather in his hands. Hermione nodded, smiling, and put the last book in place.

"Well, let's go back to the common room, then. The library closes in five minutes, and _I _do not want to be the one caught in here after hours," she said and he nodded, standing. "You might want to put that in your bag, out of sight. Imagine what Professor Snape would do if he saw it!"

The thought made him cringe and he followed Hermione, trying _not _to imagine what Snape would do if he ever caught Harry with his journal.

(Insert astricts here—FF GIMME MEH ASTRICTS BACK!)

He opened the book again after the rest of his dorm mates had gone to bed, opening to a spot a couple pages in.

_1/3_

_So that git Potter has shortened my nickname—It's Snivelly now. I honestly don't see what Lily sees in him—and I know she does, even though she's been trying to deny it for months now. She fancies him harder than I did that one mad week (it was more like a few months, but I'd rather not talk about that) back in first year. Of course, that lapse in sanity has yet to be explained, and thank god Potter snapped me out of that one right quick. Slimy bastard. He says all sorts of horrible things to me, and I'm the disgusting one?_

Harry blinked in shock. Had he really just read that? Even if only a slight crush lasting only a couple of months, thinking that Snape at any point in time had fancied his dad was downright nauseating. It sickened him enough thinking he'd had feelings for Lily, but fancying James? That was a whole knew level of 'gross'.

_It's just that James is so infuriating! He's so damn good looking, with that purposefully messed up hair, and those pretty brown eyes. And not to mention his body! How the hell does he got off being so… but he's such an ass!_

The brunette couldn't help but snort. As much as he was creeped out, he couldn't help but admit Snape sounded like a teenage girl infatuated with the lord of the jocks. Utter denial. It was obvious Snape still fancied him at this point. It was still a weird thought, he added to himself, wincing.

_I know I'm not so great either, though, especially after what I said about Lily. I hadn't meant to hurt her—James was just being so rude, implying that I needed a woman's help to save me, and I said the first thing I could think of to save my own broken pride (not that I have much left…)._

_Poor Lily. _

Harry thought to his own nemesis. Did Malfoy feel bad for calling Hermione what he did? He thought about it, picturing Malfoy's arrogant, feminine face. Probably not. Draco Malfoy did not feel regret.

_Mudblood is such a filthy word. It makes me sick to even think it. I'd heard it so many times from Lucius, Bellatrix, and the rest of that crowd. I just wanted to hurt Potter, to match the hateful 'Snivellus' I heard every day. So much I didn't think about the fact that it was Lily I was hurting, even if she forgave me. _

_I'm such a git. But Potter is worse._

Harry raised an eyebrow. Snape had a conscience? That was news to him. Still, he was starting to feel bad for the sullen professor. It was upsetting to know that part of Snape's problem (which seemed to be extensive and irreversible) was how much of an ass his father was.

_I never did anything to James._

Harry was a little confused. It was 'Potter' before—they were calling him 'James' now?

_I swear to god, I never did anything to James. Sure, I stared a bit. I was eleven years old and he was my first crush. Sure, I was more than mildly freaked out that my first crush was another boy, but I dealt with it. Unfortunately, that involved a lot of Potter-watching. I'd just wanted to figure out __what__ I liked about him._

Judging from his earlier rant, it was probably how "damn good looking" he was.

"Harry," Hermione called from the door to their dorm room, startling him. "Come down to the common room. I know you're awake." He sighed. More time taken away from his interesting (read: disturbing) read. He got up, defeated before he even had the chance to argue, and brought Snape's journal with him.

"You seem quite taken with it," the curly-haired brunette said suspiciously when he sat beside her on the couch facing the fireplace. "you've been itching to read it since we returned to Gryffindor tower."

Harry snorted and by way of answering the unspoken question, said, "Read this. Just read this." She gave him a dirty look, thinking he was trying to distract her, but he gestured toward the journal as he opened it and she leaned over with a sigh.

_Sometimes I just wish he'd forget all of that. I think we could really be friends if he gave us a chance. I'd say more than friends (against my better judgment, because I know "king" Potter would never go for someone like me) but I know how much he likes Lily. I'm okay with being friends, though. I can work with that, if only he'd let me._

_Maybe it's a good think he's such an ass to me. I don't know how well I'd be able to hold myself back if he showed me his good side. I'd probably fall even deeper in love with him._

When Hermione looked up at him again, her eyes were very, very wide. "Professor Snape… _fancied _your dad?" She forced out in surprise.

"Apparently," Harry answered. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about that, really. The thought that Snape had at one point seriously fancied his dad still made him slightly queasy. He thought, when Hermione opened her mouth, that she would agree with him.

"That is so cute!" she squealed.

"How is that _cute_? This is Snape we're talking about!" Harry cried, confused.

Hermione chuckled at him, shaking her head, sending her gentle curls into slight disarray. "I have seen pictures of Snape when he was a Hogwarts student. He was cute. Kind of nerdy, but he looked sweet. Poor dear."

Harry blanched. "Where did you see pictures of Snape?"

She grinned proudly. "I was a little curious after you described his memory, when you told me about how much of an "ass" he was. I asked Dumbledore if he happened to have any photos from that year. Turns out he did." She sighed at him, sounding a little annoyed when she spoke. "Harry, are you disgusted by this because he's… gay?" The brunette rolled his eyes.

"Hermione, how hypocritical of me would that be?" he snorted. "I'm gayer than Boy George." She rolled her own eyes. "I know, I know—no more bad jokes." She chuckled with him.

"Harry," she sighed fondly. "Were I anyone else, that wouldn't have made any sense. So glad I'm muggle born." They both laughed at that. "In any case, I'm interested now. Turn the page."

He skipped a couple, bored of the repetitive description of his father's arrogance, and they continued reading at the start of a new day.

_1/24_

_I wouldn't believe what just happened if I hadn't been there myself._

_I was in the library, studying on my own. Lucius and the Parkinson girl, Felicia, had been with me, but they'd left a half hour or so before. Felicia's younger sister is the one who got pregnant last year, and had a miscarriage. Word has it she's sleeping around again, and is actually thinking about trying again for another baby in a year or so. IT absolutely shocks me that her judgment is so poor._

_Anyway, I was alone since the others left, and who comes along? James Potter! James Potter, can you believe it? And he looks at me and says 'oh, Severus!' like we're friends! With this huge smile on his face. So radiant. So __beautiful__. So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him, so of course I snapped at him to go away. Oh, but that smile… it was obvious I didn't mean it. I was sure he'd realize what I felt for him in a second._

"Slick, this one," Harry snorted, but Hermione just swatted him on the arm.

"Oh, just shut up and let me read!"

_And he didn't leave, just like I hoped he wouldn't. He just smiled at me and said 'you don't mean that, do you, Severus?' What the hell am I supposed to say to that? He was so close. He'd cornered me, his eyes so bright. I could barely breath, and I couldn't lie. Not to… not to __James__._

_When I said no, he just smiled again. I asked him what he was doing, and he said, quote on quote—'trying to figure out the best way to ask out this guy I like.' Of course I asked if he meant me. He said he did, and I asked him why he would—like me, that is. _

_He said 'because you're cute, among other things'. Can you believe __that__? Me, cute!_

"Why is everyone convinced Snape was cute?" Harry bellowed.

_When I told him I wasn't, he started to list off all of the ways he thinks I am. I hate to be called cute, or pretty—after all, I'm not a girl. But when James says it… I love it._

_I was so sure he was playing a joke on me. Still, when he kissed me, there was no way I could just pull away. Maybe I was just in shock (after all, imagine James Potter kissing me!)_

Harry winced; he really didn't _want _to imagine it!

_But it was the most wonderful kiss ever. Not that I've had many kisses, mind you._

"Poor Professor Snape," Hermione sighed. "That must have been a sensory overload." Harry had to admit, he felt sorry for the dark-haired man. He was obviously head over heels for the elder Potter.

"It makes me wonder… was my dad playing a prank on him?" Harry asked out loud.

"Do you want him to have been?"

He shook his head. "I'd rather my dad fancy Snape than be a total git," he admitted. Hermione smiled in approval and ducked her head to continue reading.

_Even if James is playing me for a fool, I'm okay with it. I'd rather have him as an illusion than not have him at all._

_1/26_

_Potter smiled at me today, in front of our entire potions class. He's taken to calling me Snape in public, but he comes to study with me in the library, and when we're alone there he calls me Severus, or sometimes simply Sev. I won't like, I'm getting my hopes up. I really like James, and Lucius is always saying to go for what I want. He doesn't like James, but he says he "wants me happy for once in my miserable life". It's nice to know that if anything, Lucius has my back._

So Lucius was a good friend? Harry couldn't help but wonder if his blonde nemesis had inherited that from his father.

"I'm bored with this part," Harry announced, flipping ahead several pages.

_2/14_

_For Valentine's Day, James and I met in Hogsmead. Apparently, "Padfoot", "Mooney", and "Wormtail" are all finally aware of our relationship, which is a relief. In keeping us a secret, I'd thought he was toying with me. The chances that he's serious are much higher now, and it's a good feeling._

"I don't want to hear about Snape's date with my dad," Harry groaned, making a face. Hermione laughed.

"They kind of remind me of you and Draco, actually."

Harry blanched. "How in hell does Snape and my dad remind you of me and Malfoy? And why are you using his first name?" he demanded, a flush turning his cheeks red.

She snorted. "You really are obtuse, aren't you?" He blinked at her. "Harry, Draco has a crush on you—he has for awhile now, since third year. And as for me using his first name, let's just say Draco and I have become friends over the last year." Her smug smile blew Harry out of the water. Hermione and Malfoy, friends? Had Hell just frozen over?

"You and Malfoy, friends? What the hell?" he asked incredulously, but she just smiled mysteriously and traced the words on the page of the notebook.

Wait a minute. He had a feeling there was something else he was missing.

"Wait a minute. What else did you just say?"

She rolled her eyes. "That he's only fancied you since third year," she answered before returning her attention to Snape and James's first date. She ignored him for the rest of the hour, but he kept turning that over in his mind.

Draco Malfoy had a crush on him, and Snape was shagging his father? He shook his head, taking the journal when Hermione was finished and heading up to bed. Too much information all around. He was far too tired to deal with all of it. He was going to bed, and they _would _talk about everything when they woke up.

He stashed the journal under his pillow and fell asleep.

**This is new… anyway, it's a twoshot, so I'll post the second half whenever I get it written. I wanted to post it, otherwise it would probably be a oneshot, but I was eager. *smiles***

**Kandakicksass**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the last half, everyone! There is a lot more H/D in this chapter, though, so if you don't like that… fuck off. xD It's still J/S centered for the most part… Harry and Draco was supposed to be background… and those two retards moved to the foreground. But, you know, whatever.**

_3/14_

_I don't understand why James likes me. Don't get me wrong—it makes me happy that he does, and the sex is more than fantastic, but I don't understand the appeal of being with me. He came out to the great hall today—the entire great hall, all of them, all at once! I didn't want to let him; he'd ambushed me outside the Slytherin common room and forcibly dragged me to the great hall. I'd tried pulling my hand away, but he wouldn't let me and just barged in like he owned the place!_

_If I didn't love him so much, I'd hate him. Two sides of the same coin, but I love him too much to flip it now. I can't even remember anymore when it was flipped in the first place._

In the short week since he'd found the journal, Hermione had become attached to the idea of the two together. Harry didn't exactly feel comfortable, but he couldn't say that he wasn't rooting for Snape. Theirs was a textbook love—pure, warm. Consuming. Harry read as Snape fell deeper and deeper in love with his father, and he didn't want to admit it, but he sort of began to resent Lily Potter for taking to two apart, despite his lack of knowledge about the subject.

_You should have seen the looks on everyone's faces. Lily looked sick to her stomach, Sirius was laughing at everyone (yes, I'm quite angry at myself for calling the Marauders by the their first names), and Lupin was just laughing at Sirius's amusement. Petigrew doesn't like me at all, and if I'm being honest, the feeling's mutual. He's a right slimy git, he is, and I don't like him hanging around James. _

_But the Slytherins, anyway, were the worst. They all looked at me like I was a traitor—which was why I didn't want to go public in the first place! Only Lucius looked even somewhat pleased with my current predicament, but then, he's been begging me to just 'come out with it, you big poofer!' for months. The reactions from everyone scared the hell out of me, to be honest. I feel better knowing that James is here with me, though._

"Who knew Snape was so… lovey dovey?" Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"You know, I think it's sweet."

"You would," he scoffed. "You're the one sitting here, reading all day instead of studying. I wouldn't have believed it of you." She rolled her eyes again, her smile still pleasant.

"You wouldn't have to know about it if you weren't reading over my shoulder," she giggled at him and he turned pink, but laughed with her. "Besides, I have my work finished. I keep up on it straight after school, and read when I'm finished. You needn't be worried about it anyway—_you _have a study date right about… now."

He cocked his head at her. "A… study date?"

Hermione sighed, closing the journal and setting it aside. She didn't start lecturing him about his study habits however—she looked _ashamed _of something and Harry knew from experience that if Hermione was ashamed of something, he had reason to be worried. "Now, Harry, I know I didn't exactly _ask _you… I really think it's good for the both of you…"

"Hermione," he growled, the pieces settling into place. "A study date?"

She threw her hands up in defeat. "I arranged for Draco to meet you in the library." He raised an eyebrow at her lie and she sighed again. "He's outside the common room as we speak," she admitted miserably. "I didn't want you to back out, which I knew you would. I'm not asking you two to become best friends, I was just hoping that maybe studying together might get you on… decent terms."

He threw his own hands up with an incredulous look at the painting hiding their common room. "Hermione, are you mad? This is _Malfoy_, the same one that's been hexing us since first year! The same narcissistic asshole I met in Madam Malkin's!"

"He's also a prefect, as well as a boy who was forced into a life he didn't want," she argued hotly. "Just like you. Yes, he's a little more… aristocratic than you are, but underneath it, you two are very much alike. So get over yourself and deal with it, wonder boy!" His eyes went round and she winced delicately. "Sorry, Harry. I think I've been spending too much time around Draco."

"Obviously," he snapped, but his heart wasn't in it and she knew it. "Give me the journal." She blinked at him suspiciously.

"Why do you want it?" she asked, a hand creeping over its leather cover protectively.

"Maybe Malfoy and I can bond over it," he told her sarcastically. "If push comes to shove, at least we'll have something to talk about. You want us to be friends, right?" He really didn't like the idea, but the damage was already done. She was right, anyway; he was a Gryffindor, and he needed to stop being so anti-Malfoy. As it turned out, he had several friends in Slytherin, mostly third and fourth years, and they were all right. He hoped for his own sake that Malfoy's arrogance was a façade like theirs.

He snatched the book away, ignoring his friend's cry of protest, and stalked toward the door with a stormy expression. He grabbed his bag, left lying in an armchair, on the way, and stepped out of the portrait hole with a frown.

"Malfoy," he greeted the blonde as calmly as he could. Draco's hair was shorter than it had been the year before, but instead of gelled back as it had been in their first couple years, it was left to frame his pale face in a stylish manner, which Harry found almost cute on him. He didn't like him as a person, but he wasn't going to lie; Malfoy was a good looking bloke.

"Potter," he responded cooly, pushing himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against, but Harry could tell he was nervous and it made him feel slightly guilty for being so negative. His grey eyes, almost like mercury, betrayed his anxiety as they walked in silence to the library. Once there, they picked a table far enough away from anyone else in the large room that they would be left alone, and Harry pulled his books out of his bag while Draco set his own on the table.

"Hermione says we're to study, but what exactly _are _we studying?" Harry asked at last, fiddling with a loose string on the hem of his shirt. Draco looked up, biting his lip.

"Um, she suggested I help you on the charms essay," he said after a few moments of lip-biting. Then his eyes zeroed in on the journal, sitting next to his text books. "What's that, if I may ask?" Harry glanced over at it; it _was _quite obvious it was a journal with the plain cover and name on the worn leather. Of course the Slytherin would get curious.

"It's a journal I found in the student artifacts section," he responded, sliding it in front of them. He had to smother a grin; he was able to skip right to the journal and avoid the awkward study-session. Perfect. "I was looking for a hint to who owned my potions book, since I got it from Slughorn and the comments in the margins are right helpful—" _Why _did he tell the speccy git that? "—and I found this sometime last week. Turns out…" He grinned, unsure of how Draco would take this. "Turns out, it's Snape."

Draco's eyes went as round as saucers. "_Snape_?" Harry nodded. "Seriously? This is Severus's journal from when he was in Hogwarts?" Harry nodded again, but this time he raised an eyebrow at Draco's use of the man's first name. "He's my godfather," he added, answering Harry's unasked question.

"It's… a very interesting read," Harry commented, holding back a chuckle. He _really _wasn't sure how Draco was going to take hearing that his godfather had been in love with Harry's own father.

"I'm sure it is," Draco murmured, examining the first page in some sort of amazement. "He told me he had one, but I never thought—he said it went missing _ages _ago!" He straightened suddenly, his expression turning sulky. "Of course, he said it was very private and he wouldn't let me read it even if he had it, so it didn't much matter," the blonde grumbled and Harry laughed.

"Well, it would have been a bit awkward for him, having you read all about his romance with my dad, I guess," Harry mused and Draco gasped.

"_What_?" he hissed, leaning in, shock clear in his eyes. "Severus was in love with your father?" Harry nodded, pulling the book away from him and opening to a random page. "Um… here we go, a nice example of how in love he was." Harry slid the book back over to the boy and rolled his eyes at the mush on the page.

_4/23 _

_James and I took a trip to Hogsmeade today (using one of the secret entrances, of course—that Marauder's map of his is damn useful) and I don't even know if I can tell how much fun I had. He bought me sweets and all sort of random trinkets god knows I could never afford for myself. I really don't know how I ever deserve him, but I won't turn it down, even if he thinks it's okay to snog in front of Madam Rosmerta, which, by the way, happened to get us three detentions because she watched us to make sure we didn't get too frisky in the bar and recognized us. _

_If you ever read this, thanks, James. Thanks a lot._

Draco laughed at that. "This is brilliant! He's going to kill me if he ever knows I've read it—" He paused, regarding Harry with a careful eye. "Okay, maybe you, but he won't be happy when he finds out we have this."

"_We _have this?" Harry repeated with a raised eyebrow. "Don't you mean _I _have it?" Draco's cheeks turned pink and he leaned back, scooting away.

"Yeah," he muttered. "I just thought…"

Harry's expression softened, feeling guilty that he'd goaded the boy so rudely when it was obvious Draco liked him (it appeared that Hermione was right). "I know. I was kidding. Yeah, he will be mad if he finds out we have it." Draco looked up at him with a hopeful smile that Harry returned, albeit a bit hesitatingly.

"Potter…" Draco said hesitatingly and Harry watched one finger trace the edge of the page they had been reading from. "Do you think that Severus and your dad really… do you think it was serious?"

"You mean their relationship?" Harry questioned and Draco nodded. "What, you wondering if my dad was buggering him just for kicks?" Draco looked very reluctant to answer that question, obviously afraid of what Harry would say if he so blatantly insulted his father's integrity.

"Honestly, I wondered that, too," he shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "My dad… I know he wasn't exactly the nicest guy in school." He winced at the memory of exactly how cruel he'd been to the potions professor. "But you know, I think I'll go with the old adage 'innocent until proven guilty'. My dad couldn't have been _that _bad."

Draco smiled slightly. "Couldn't have been… obviously. He spawned you, didn't he? And you're a regular Gryffindor super hero." His voice was almost fond and Harry felt his cheeks color to a slightly brighter shade of pink.

"You know, I think that was a compliment," Harry teased, leaning over to punch his shoulder. Draco blushed as well, biting his lip again.

"Well, it was meant as one," he said gruffly and Harry beamed at him. "Don't give me that look. Haven't you ever wondered what was under all this animosity between us?" Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking like he was letting a great weight loose. "I always did. Always wondered that if you had just _taken my hand _back in first year if we had the potential to actually be friends."

"I wondered, too," Harry said softly. "Hell, I think no matter what decision we'd made, we'd wonder. I always thought I'd made the right one, but maybe not… but then, think of what a menace I'd have been in Slytherin!"

He laughed out loud and Draco, after a moment of sitting there, stunned, laughed, too. "I'm glad you're a stupid Gryffindor. You know, Slytherins… they don't have friends. Not really." He crossed his arms and laid his head down on them, looking up at Harry with those startling grey eyes. "I love Blaise, and I love Pansy… but we Slytherins… we save our own asses before we save each other. I was always jealous of you and your little golden trio." He shrugged and blushed red, burying his face in his arms.

"So I guess… we're friends, huh?" Draco smiled shyly and Harry had to shake himself a little because he really didn't believe it was really the same Malfoy sitting there, grinning at him with hope.

"I guess so," he said, sounding like Christmas had come early. "Won't be easy, with the Dark Lord and everything." He made a face there, but it was much more tentative than Harry would have thought. "It's not a good year in my household." He muttered something that sounded like _or anywhere, really_, but he wasn't going to say anything that could potentially upset the blonde when they were trying to form a shaky friendship.

"Yeah," he echoed. With a small smile, Draco ducked his head and they both continued to read for a while.

_There's something about James I can't put a finger on. Charisma, maybe. I don't know. Something about the way he carries himself, the way he talks and walks and carries himself… he's had my attention since day one, even though it wasn't always the good sort of attention._

_He smiles and my heart beats harder. He touches me and I can't look away. He kisses me, and I stop breathing. Who gives him the right to be so damn enticing? But I love it… I'm such a hypocrite… I hate the girls who fond over him, but I fond over him as well… I'm a right git. But I do love him, so that makes it okay. I think._

"I love his logic," Draco snickered.

"Do you now, _Mr. _Malfoy."

Their eyes went wide and they turned around to look up at Snape in fear. Harry felt almost sick. Was that normal? Draco, on the other hand, looked like he'd taken an Avada to the chest and gulped. "Hi, Uncle Sev," he said weakly, waving faintly.

Snape's expression was nothing short of stony. "Hello, Draco. May I ask what you're doing with my journal?" Harry tensed, fully expecting the blonde to throw him to the dogs, but the blonde just blushed.

"I… happened upon it."

"And thought it necessary to show Mr. Potter?" He was obviously incredulous, and Harry didn't blame him. "And here I thought you two were mortal enemies."

"We grew up," Draco braved before he descended into a whine. "Come on, Uncle Sev! It's not like we're sitting here making fun of your or anything! We totally understand?" Harry's expression betrayed his thought—_we do?_—but Snape snorted.

"I'm sure, Mr. Malfoy," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Detention, tomorrow night. The dungeons, eight o'clock. The both of you. And give me my journal, if you would." There was a light flush on his cheeks, betraying his shame. At the sight, though, Harry couldn't bring himself to laugh the way he would have before. He felt… _bad _for the black-haired teacher, and ridiculously guilty for the events that had led up to their parting… likely his mother.

They both watched him walk away with a swish of his robes and turned to each other with grave expressions. "He took the book," they said in unison, then laughed.

*(Later, Dungeons)*

Harry grumbled to himself about the injustice of it all as he scrubbed the inside of a cauldron used earlier in the day to make love potions—downright fragrant freshly brewed, but nasty once they've been left to sit. Draco was across the room, organizing his stack, chuckling to himself about his cleaning partner's mumbling.

"Harry," he said after he'd heard the brunette curse his godfather's children and grandchildren for the umpteenth time. "It's not that bad. Calm down, will you? You're being ridiculous."

"Come here and smell this!" he said, exasperated. "Like the inside of a toilet. Disgusting."

"Like all Gryffindors," he teased, coming over and taking Harry's scrubber. "Come on, just put a little elbow grease into it." Harry raised an eyebrow as Draco took over, determinedly scrubbing with gusto.

"I didn't even know you _knew _that phrase," he chuckled and Draco's cheeks turned pink.

"I had an uncle who spent a lot of time in the muggle world. Must have picked it up from him," he explained vaguely, embarrassed. "Besides. I know a lot of things; I'm not just some ignorant pure blood."

"Really? What else do you know?" Harry joked, laughing at his newfound friend. "Can you wash clothes with a washing machine? Can you use a dishwasher?"

Draco's face grew steadily more red. Harry continued on, taunting him with talk of muggle appliances. He'd thought Draco's head would explode when he felt a pair of warm lips on his own. He blinked in surprise and Draco pulled away, his cheeks blushing furiously. "Sorry," he muttered, but Harry just leaned in and kissed him again.

"Different, yet strangely pleasant," he said with a grin. He was just about to kiss the blonde again, who looked thoroughly surprised, when he happened to look up and see a leather-bound book on their professor's desk. "The journal!" He ran up and grabbed it, waving Draco over. "Why don't we read a bit more? At this point, I don't care if Snape knows we just _scourgified_—" He flicked his wand in the general direction of the cauldrons, more interested in the journal in his hands. "—since he was stupid enough to leave us our wands."

Draco just laughed and obviously feeling secure in Harry's response to his kiss, leaned over his shoulder, resting his chin on it, looking over Harry's shoulder as he read. Shortly afterwards, the two moved to Snape's chair—larger than necessary and incredibly comfortable—with Draco nearly entirely in his lap as they worked their way through the last third of the book, spending the next hour reading about their teacher's former love life. Honestly, the whole thing was a little depressing, reading about the love of Severus's life knowing how things had ended up—Snape alone, James married to Lily, both dead.

Harry felt heartbroken for his professor, Draco sniffling to himself in his lap from Harry's muttered musings about how sadly things had ended for them, at least until the last page, written in a very different, much messier scrawl—

_1/9_

_I know this diary—oops, journal, sorry, Sev—doesn't belong to me, but I have something to say that I'd like to share. I've known Severus since I was eleven, and since then, I've come to a lot of conclusions about him. He's a funny person, a sweet person… a witty, sarcastic person. He's cold, he's dark, and he tries not to love anyone. But he loves me, and I know that. He loves me a lot._

_I promised him on Christmas day that no matter what happens, dark lord or not, I'll always be at his side. I promised I'll love him forever, whether we move on or not. I promised him that if I grow up, and marry someone else, that I'll still think of him and love him. He promised the same—though he had a nasty sneer on his face, like he thought I was being too mushy—and then he kissed me and I knew everything would be okay in the end, mushy or not._

_I love you, Severus Snape. You know I do. I always will._

_With all my heart and then some,_

_James Potter_

Draco traced the little heart in the corner of the page, the ink worn—likely from being caressed in the same way by its owner.

"I might have a huge crush on you, Draco Malfoy," Harry murmured to the blonde, grinning cheekily. "You know I do, and I always will." He laughed and Draco pouted, kissing the corner of his mouth. His grey eyes were warm when he pulled away.

"You're an idiot, Potter." They kissed again, and Harry knew everything would be okay in the end.

Outside of the room, Snape sighed. Really, assign a detention and the punished children would completely ignore their work. Granted, they'd cheated and used magic—which was still wrong—so they could speed things along. To read his journal, no less! He was almost angry, but…

James shone through in Harry—James, his love, and Lily, his best friend. It almost hurt to look at him sometimes, but when it came down to it… they were so similar. Watching Harry kiss his godson with that smile had been sweet, like watching his own son finding potential love.

He walked away. He would come back in an hour, and when he did, he would tell them to just go back to their rooms. He didn't care whether they fulfilled their detention or not, really, but this time, he was hiding that journal where they weren't going to find it.

**I've obviously re-listed this as Harry/Draco, because that's what it's turned into, but you know, there was still that element of James/Severus, so I suppose it's okay.**

**Kandakicksass**


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